


the kiss

by MavenMorozova



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo, The Grishaverse - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anyways, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hate Kissing, Kiss or Die, Kissing, Light Angst, Making Out, One Shot, Request Meme, it's like fuck or die but kid friendly:P, kinda want to write a f/o/d for them now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MavenMorozova/pseuds/MavenMorozova
Summary: Alina finds herself in an odd sort of void. The only way to escape is to kiss her mortal enemy.
Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	the kiss

**Author's Note:**

> kiss or die, that's the prompt. like fuck or die but not that far, obviously. from an anon request on tumblr!

Alina didn’t know how she’d ended up here, but she did know that she wanted to get out immediately. _ Easier said than done _ , she thought, as she realized that she wasn’t really in a  _ place  _ at all, but rather a plane of being.

“Hello?” Alina called, her voice cutting through the silence. The question disappeared almost as soon as she said it, for without walls, there was nowhere for the sound to bounce off of.

Something moved in the corner of her eye, and a sharp pain pounded against her temples within a moment. “What the—?”

A woman was standing there, her brown eyes unblinking and bright. She seemed to almost float in the air—if there was air—and she was smiling eerily. “Hello, Sankta.”

Alina scowled, blowing back a stray white hair from her face. “Who are you?” she asked.

The woman only smiled. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that  _ he’s  _ here.” Her eyes narrowed and her head twisted sharply to the right, gesturing at a figure clad in black who hadn’t been there a moment before. Alina felt her heart shake at the sight of him, so familiar, and yet eliciting that burning hatred that traveled from the base of her spine up to her eardrums, until it was all she could hear.

“ _ You _ ,” she spat, nostrils flaring. She attempted to throw her arm up into the air, to deliver a swift Cut and kill him, but when she tried, Alina found that her arms were stuck to the sides of her kefta, body frozen in place. The Darkling smirked, standing stock-still with his arms handing beside him, utterly motionless. Could he be doing this? But then—why was he stuck in place as well?

“Adorable,” the woman muttered, her tone revealing that she did not think that their interaction was anything of the sort. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“To what?” Alina called to her, voice rising in pitch. She was lost, alone in this strange place, with only her worst enemy and a long-forgotten Saint (or so she assumed) with her. “Why are were here? What’s going on?”

The woman turned her head back, the corner of her lips lifting. “The Saints have decided what they think is necessary,” she told Alina simply. “You and Aleksander have to kiss each other within the hour. Or die.”

Alina could have laughed if she wasn’t so angry. “Excuse me?” She glanced over at the Darkling and noticed that he still wore that same smug expression on his face. It only made her blood boil further.

“Oh come now,” the Saint muttered. “It’s not as if I’m asking you to make love to the man!”

Alina glowered at her. “What is the point of this, even?”

“I’m assuming that they want us to be together, as the way it was always meant to be,” the Darkling said quietly. “We were always destined to be together, my Alina. You can’t deny it.”

She lifted her chin stubbornly. “I’m not doing this. It’s ridiculous. Sankta—whoever you are, stop this!”

The Saint’s small smile only grew as she winked. She had  _ winked _ ? “Time is ticking,” she said with the glint of a laugh in her voice. The next moment, she had faded into the nothingness that surrounded them.

As soon as she’d disappeared, Alina spun around to face the Darkling. “Did you put her up to this?”

He shrugged. “So what if I did?” At her mutinous expression, he dropped his shoulders and closed his eyes, seeming to drink her in. “That’s not actually what happened. I didn’t know about this until a moment ago, when we appeared here. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Should we just get it over with, then?” Alina asked sourly. “If that’s what it takes to win the war?”

He looked up and then back down again, visage expressionless as he considered. Finally— “I don’t want to sully myself with your lips that have touched those of the otkazat’syas,” he sneered.

Alina gawked at him. “That didn’t seem to be a problem with you when we first met.”

The Darkling’s nose wrinkled. “Times have changed, I suppose.” He began to unbutton his kefta, leaving Alina stunned. She disliked it, of course, but all they had to do was  _ kiss _ . Or die—and certainly, none of them wanted  _ that _ , for they were both too important to their respective causes. This whole thing was so fucking stupid, and for some reason, that made her hate the Darkling even more, even though he hadn’t been part of the plot.

“You’re kidding, right?” was all she could say.

The Darkling ignored her, and Alina felt her anger bubble ever higher. He was taking off another layer, a thin black vest that separated the inner layers of his kefta from his black sweater, which Alina thought looked surprisingly soft.

“Are you even going to talk to me at all?” She had thought that she was the unreasonable one. It was a simple task, really, and it wasn’t as if they had no basis of attraction to each other.

Alina tried to think about it all in technical terms, her brain attempting to order things in a row matter-of-factly, but she couldn’t push away the memory of the Winter Fete, the heat of the Darkling’s skin on hers, and of course, that one time he’d impersonated Mal.

Finally, the Darkling turned back to her, and Alina noticed that in her haze of overthinking things, he had removed every single one of his layers on his upper body, leaving only the trousers that he wore under the tails of his kefta. “So are you going to kiss me now?” she asked sarcastically.

The Darkling let out a small noise, and Alina wasn’t sure if it was assent or indignation. He wavered in place for a moment of indecision, and then—

Finally, the distance between them closed, and the Darkling pressed his lips to hers.  _ Chaste _ . The least of what they could do.

It didn’t stay that way for long. Alina willingly opened her mouth to his, and his tongue entered hers. Their hands roamed across each other, hers across his bare, hard chest and his under the cloth of her golden kefta. She felt herself begin to sigh. It had been so long.

“Now that wasn’t that hard, was it?” a voice said teasingly. Alina and the Darkling jolted apart in surprise to find the Saint who had imprisoned them here staring at them intently, humor in her dark eyes.

“You got what you wanted,” Alina said, shifting back into her sour demeanor. “Happy?”

“Far from it,” she said. “In a perfect world, you two would rule Ravka together.” Pressing her lips together, she looked between them, eyes flashing. “You can go.”

But Alina had found that she didn’t want to go. She gazed at the Darkling—Aleksander—and could not deny that the kiss they’d just shared had sparked memories and desires in her, of a past and of a future. Not purely physical, either, but sense of connection.

They would always be different from the rest, just as he had said.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! im always a slut for some darklina;)


End file.
